


Love is now Mingled with Grief

by Aquila_Star



Series: Powers of Persuasion [22]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Feels, M/M, SMUTTY SMUT, big news
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 14:05:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6808150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aquila_Star/pseuds/Aquila_Star
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gandalf is ready to leave, and so is Bilbo. He thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love is now Mingled with Grief

In the end, it took Gandalf the better part of a week to clear the mountain of Smaug's magic.

He'd needed to rest for a few days before going in, his escape from Dol Guldur, which Bilbo had heard about after the fact, had seriously drained him. “It could have been done quicker,” Gandalf said, while smoking a pipe with Bilbo, having re-emerged from the mountain that afternoon. “But I needed to go slower, to make sure I hadn't missed anything. My perception is slightly dulled, as of late.”

“I'm glad you were able to clear the mountain, Gandalf,” Bilbo replied. “I won't worry about Thorin so much, now.”

“You're still meaning to head back to the Shire then, are you?” Gandalf asked, watching Bilbo carefully. He felt very small under Gandalf's gaze, not for the first time, either. 

“Yes, of course,” Bilbo said cheerfully, wondering why Gandalf looked so sceptical. 

“You'd not rather stay here, with Thorin?”

“No, I...” Bilbo looked up at Gandalf, with a raised brow, fixing him with a look of exasperation. “I care about Thorin a great deal, it's true. And our relationship has been...intense. And of a very, intimate nature, I admit. But I need to go home, Gandalf. It's an ache inside me that I can't displace.”

“Thorin cares for you very much, Bilbo. It will wound him when you leave.”

“I know,” Bilbo said quietly. “I know it will. I never meant for things to turn out this way, and I will always have a place in my heart for him, but...do you really think it could have worked out? If I decided to stay. He's the King under the Mountain and I am a Hobbit. I'm a realistic Hobbit, and the idea that he'll want me forever, when so many others will no doubt want to be with him, will pressure him to be a proper King and take a proper wife, well...it's ludicrous, Gandalf.”

“Do you really believe that, Bilbo?” Gandalf asked, his face showing his concern. “That Thorin could be so moved by the will of others?”

“Yes. Perhaps not. I don't know, Gandalf,” Bilbo admitted. “What I know is that I must go home, and I was hoping you'd go with me.”

“I will indeed, if that is your wish.” Gandalf assured him, which set Bilbo's mind at ease. He would go alone, if he had to, but having Gandalf beside him would make the whole thing that much easier. And safer. 

“When would you like to depart?” Gandalf asked. “I would like to spend some time at rest, before taking another journey.”

“We can rest however long you need,” Bilbo said, hoping it wouldn't be too long. He knew they would likely be stopping over before crossing the Misty Mountains, likely with Beorn, but he wanted to make a start.

“Oh, I won't need that long,” Gandalf insisted. “One good day and night's sleep will do wonders. We can leave the day after tomorrow, if you like.”

“I...” Bilbo stuttered, surprised. For all his eagerness to go home, was surprised to find it was to be so soon. “That sounds fine,” he replied slowly. 

“If you'd like to delay longer...” Gandalf began, but Bilbo cut him off. 

“No, that's...it's fine, Gandalf. I'm ready to go home.” He sighed, looking up at the mountain, watching as Dwarves buzzed around like worker bees, clearing the area, inside and out, making preparations to repair the gates. And now, with Gandalf's assurances, they would move inside before long. Gloin and a team of Dwarves was already hard at work in the treasury, portioning out gold to purchase the needed food and supplies for Dale and Erebor, to bring them through the coming winter. 

Thorin was also making plans to procure stone, iron, and wood, from their neighbouring kingdoms, Elves, Dwarves and Men. Of course, the mountain could provide stone, but until they had made a proper survey of the damage inflicted by Smaug, they didn't know how much or how soon they could provide it. 

Thorin had gone so far as to offer the Men of Dale, formerly of Laketown, shelter within the mountain for the winter, if needed. The forges that Smaug had lit were still ablaze, though they would be shut down eventually, one by one, and completely repaired. First, they would repair the forges that remained cold, and light them instead. The mountain was going to be a hive of activity in the coming days, so Bilbo supposed that now was a good time. The Company would have much to occupy them. It was likely that they'd have little time for Bilbo at any rate. They would all be busy. Thorin especially. It was the right time, indeed. 

The Shire was calling to him. It was time to go home. 

 

* * * 

 

Bilbo approached Thorin's tent, their tent, slowly. He'd left Gandalf several hours before, intending to find Thorin and break the news, but he'd found himself wandering about the camp aimlessly. He watched the Dwarves at work outside the gates, unwilling to enter the mountain again, despite knowing that the dragon's magic had been lifted. He'd wandered to Dale and back, watching the Men there working as hard as the Dwarves. 

But he could put it off no longer. The supper hour had come, and missing a meal was too drastic a concept for Bilbo to stomach. There had been an influx of food from the Iron Hills, as well as from Mirkwood, so the fare would be better than Bilbo had become accustomed to. 

Finally he could delay no longer. 

He pushed aside the flap and went inside, nervous to be around Thorin for the first time since they'd settled their differences. Since before Rivendell, really. He was, of course, not counting every minute in which Thorin had been under the thrall of the gold. It was an unusual feeling for Bilbo, to say the least. 

“There you are,” Thorin said happily. Gandalf's pronouncement had put Thorin in the most cheerful mood Bilbo had ever seen him in. Oh, he'd seen Thorin happy before, most particularly in bed. But now, Thorin was at last where he had fought so hard and long to be. His mountain was his once more, and it was free of evil magic. The gold had not taken him in the end, and his nephews were both alive, although Fili had yet to awaken.

“Yes, I'm here,” Bilbo said. “I went to Dale and lost track of time.”

“Well, I'm glad you're back. Come, supper is here, and much better than what we've had to suffer through lately.” He smiled broadly, the sight filling Bilbo with a rush of warmth. And a rush of desire. Thorin had always been the most strikingly attractive person Bilbo had ever seen, and when he smiled...well. Thorin was stunning. 

Bilbo was going to miss him. In his bed and out. 

“Well, that's something to look forward to.” Bilbo smiled back, sitting across the table from Thorin and serving himself some food, food that turned out to be quite excellent indeed. “Bombur has outdone himself,” he added, once he'd eaten his fill. 

“He has indeed,” Thorin agreed. “His talents were wasted during our journey.”

Thorin had spent the meal telling Bilbo about his plans in the coming weeks, of the progress they had made in the mountain in just a few short hours. They would be moving inside soon, as soon as they could determine where was safe. Bilbo had shared in his joy eagerly, pleased beyond the telling of it that Thorin had at last come unto his own. 

“I was just thinking,” Bilbo said, speaking before he'd thought. 

“You're always thinking,” Thorin said with cheeky grin that made Bilbo's heart skip a beat. “What about this time?”

“The prophecy that was spoken of in Laketown. It truly has come to pass.”

“I suppose it has,” Thorin agreed.

“The lake did shine and burn. But I was thinking mostly of the part where the King Under the Mountain comes into his own. And I can see that you have.”

Thorin smiled widely, gesturing at all the paperwork piled up to the side of their now eaten dinner. “You think this is the peak of my kingship?”

“Perhaps not,” Bilbo admitted with a laugh. “But you are energized like this, Thorin. I wasn't sure how well you'd handle the organizational aspect of being King, but you've surprised me yet again. You're a natural.”

“Thank you,” Thorin said, his face soft and affectionate. “You surprise me constantly, so it's nice to turn the tables.”

Bilbo blushed under Thorin's regard, the words he needed to speak like a dead weight on his tongue. He picked at the remnants of his meal, unsure how to begin. 

“Bilbo,” Thorin said, blue gaze looking right into him. Bilbo looked up, meeting Thorin's gaze reluctantly. “What's wrong?”

Bilbo sighed, looking down at his hands, taking a deep breath before looking at Thorin again. 

“Gandalf is having a rest tonight...and probably all day tomorrow, as well,” he began, still feeling very fidgety. “He's wanting to leave the day after tomorrow. And I'll be going with him.”

Thorin sat as still as a statue. Bilbo breathed deeply, waiting for him to say something. He didn't, for long moment after long moment.

“Thorin?” Bilbo said at last. 

“I hadn't thought it would be quite so soon,” Thorin replied, his voice thick.

“I know, it rather surprised me as well,” Bilbo told him, smiling weakly. “But Gandalf has some wizardly responsibilities, apparently, and I think it would be best if he accompanied me back to the Shire.”

“I agree,” Thorin said quietly, his voice still rough with emotion. “I would not trust your safety to many others on this earth.”

Silence fell between them, and Bilbo thought he could slice the tension with one flick of Sting through the air. He didn't know what to do to relieve it, Thorin was just staring at him with a sorrowful, hopeless look on his face, and it was breaking Bilbo's heart. 

“Thorin,” he began, needing to say anything to ease the awkwardness that had settled over them.

“Thorin!” another voice called at the same time, yelling from outside the tent. There was a rustle of fabric at the flap before it was finally pushed aside, Kili's head and shoulders popping inside, his face lit up and bright with excitement.

“Kili, what is it?” Thorin asked.

“Should you be running around camp?” Bilbo asked at the same time. “Isn't Tauriel watching you?”

“She's trying,” came a wry voice from behind Kili, and Bilbo couldn't help but smile at that. 

“Never mind me, you have to come now!” Kili said, all the way in the tent now, pulling Thorin up with his good arm. The wound on his leg was still bothering him, the proof in the tender way he limped back to the door with Thorin in tow. 

“What ever is the matter?” Thorin asked, shaking his head at his nephew's boundless energy. 

“Fili is awake!”

 

* * *

 

He was indeed, Bilbo found out moments later, after following Thorin on a mad dash through the camp to the medical tent where Fili had been lying unconscious for the past week. He was sitting up, propped carefully on a pile of cushions. He looked tired, but his eyes were bright, and more importantly, he was alive.

“Fili!” Thorin said, rushing to his side, pressing his head against Fili's, very gently, with a firm grip on his good shoulder. 

“Uncle,” Fili said in a cracked voice. 

“I am so relieved to see you awake. We thought you were dead,” he said, sitting on the side of Fili's cot, gripping his hand.

“I thought I was dead as well,” Fili admitted, smiling weakly. “Imagine my surprise to wake up with Oin's frazzled face hovering over me.”

“Ahh, you know you loved it, lad,” Oin said, standing beside the cot. “We were all worried about you.”

There were quite a few people gathered in the tent now, Oin, Thorin, Kili, Tauriel, and Bilbo all crowded around Fili's cot. Kili slipped past Oin and took the other side of the cot, grinning brightly enough to rival the sun. 

“Kee,” Fili breathed, his smile widening to match his brother's. “You don't look hurt so bad.”

“Ahh, just a cut on the leg and a broken arm,” Kili replied. “I didn't do as well as you, but then, we can't all get stabbed and thrown off a cliff.” His grin had turned mischievous and Bilbo was blown away by the ability of the Dwarves to take a near fatal injury and turn it into a competition. 

“You'll just have to try harder next time,” Fili said. “Though I think Tauriel will have words with you if you try and throw yourself off anything.” Bilbo turned to look at where Tauriel was standing, beside the doorway, and sure enough, her face was set in a hard look of disapproval. Clearly, Bilbo wasn't the only one who didn't understand how the Dwarves dealt with such things. 

“Fili,” she said, nodding. “It is gratifying to see you awake. There have been many who were quite worried for you, around the camp,” she paused for a moment before adding, “and in Dale.”

Bilbo could tell that there was some hidden meaning to her words, especially when Fili's eyes took on a hopeful gleam.

“I'm sorry I made everyone worry so much,” Fili said, his eyes holding Tauriel's still. 

“We only worry because we care about you,” she said, pointedly, and Bilbo was left wondering just what they were saying between their carefully chosen words. He looked at Kili and found, by the expression on his face, that he had heard the unspoken words quite plainly. 

“I wonder if you'd be so kind as to inform those who worried that I care for them in return. And that I look forward to seeing them soon.”

“I'm sure they will be pleased to hear it.” Tauriel bowed her head and disappeared from the tent, no doubt to pass on her message, though to whom it was intended, Bilbo had no idea. Kili had a cheeky grin on his face, and turned back to his brother, chattering away as if nothing odd had been said, handily distracting Thorin and Oin from the odd exchange, and if Fili's cheeks were coloured with a slight blush, no one said anything. 

“I still can't believe we all made it through alive,” Fili said, looking around the group. “We did, didn't we? Not everyone is here...”

“The Company is intact,” Thorin interjected, soothing Fili's worry. “And better yet, Gandalf has managed to lift the spell of the dragon. The mountain is clean once more.”

“How long have I been unconscious?” Fili asked, eyes worried. “Not too long, surely.”

“It's been a week since the battle,” Thorin told him. “Oin, and Thranduil for that matter, assured us that you would recover fully when you woke.”

“I do believe he will,” Oin agreed. “But for now, he needs rest.”

“Rest?” Kili objected. “He's been asleep for a week!”

“No lad, he's been unconscious for a week. It's very different. Real, blessed sleep is what he needs now. He'll be well enough to get out of bed in a few days, carefully, now that we can feed him up properly.” Oin gestured to the tent at large, shooing them out. “Come back and see your brother tomorrow,” he continued, looking directly at Kili. “I'm sure he'll be awake for longer after a good night's sleep.”

“But,” Kili began to protest, but Thorin stopped him. 

“Kili, come,” he said. “Don't argue. You should get back to your own bed as well.”

“Indeed,” Oin agreed. “You're only up out of your sickbed yourself, lad. Rest will do you both good.”

Kili grumbled, but got up, and with a gentle press of his head to his brother's, allowed Oin to usher him out of the tent. Thorin did the same, assuring Fili that they would all visit him in the morning.

They left the tent, and found that the heaviness that had been pressing on him had lifted somewhat. He felt better about leaving so soon now that he knew Fili would be okay. He was still apprehensive about Thorin's reaction, they hadn't had time to discuss it much, interrupted as they were by the very good news. 

“Bilbo,” Thorin began, but he was cut off this time, and Bilbo was wondering if he should be annoyed or relieved by the constant interruptions. 

“Excuse me, My King,” said the strange Dwarf with a bow. “Lord Dain requests an audience with you, as soon as you are available.” 

Thorin looked at Bilbo for a few moments, his eyes filled with sadness, but nodded. “I'll meet him in my tent now,” he replied, and the Dwarf scuttled off, no doubt to relay the message. 

“I won't be long, I hope,” Thorin told Bilbo, would could only smile at him weakly. “We will talk. Soon.”

“Soon,” Bilbo agreed, watching as Thorin turned and walked away, his shoulders tense but slumped, as if the weight of the world was on them. Bilbo supposed, in a way, it was. Erebor was a very large mountain, and there was much work to be done. 

 

* * *

 

Since Thorin was conferring with Dain in his tent, Bilbo decided to seek out some of the others, and figured that the kitchen tent would be the best place to start. It had been greatly expanded with the arrival of Dain's army, and had transformed into an informal meeting place. He was pleased to find that his instinct had been accurate, nearly all of the company was there, except for Fili and Kili, who were in bed, as ordered, Thorin, and apparently, Balin, who was in Thorin's tent as well, planning the next stage of the gate construction. Oin was also missing, no doubt still attending to Fili. 

Bilbo approached cautiously, remembering that Thorin wasn't the only one who would be sad at his departure.

“Bilbo!” called Bofur from a long table in front of the tent where the Company had gathered. A platter of bread rolls was in the middle of the table, and a keg of ale was propped up at one end, both being handily devoured by the Dwarves. “Come have an ale! We're celebrating!”

A chorus of cheers rose up from them, and Bilbo smiled in spite of his grey mood. He was welcomed heartily, pulled down into a seat between Bofur and Dwalin, and given a large mugful of ale, which he took a rather large drink of, before smiling at his Dwarves. 

“What are we celebrating?” he asked, getting swept up in the good cheer of his friends.

“Why, Fili's recovery, of course!” Bofur said, raising his mug in a toast and the group cheered. 

“And the recovery of the mountain, safe and free of dragon sickness!” Dwalin added, earning another cheer. 

“Of course,” Bilbo laughed, realising that there was much to be grateful for. He thought about keeping his news to himself, but in the end, he realised that he'd be better to do it now, while almost everyone was together. 

“I have something to celebrate, myself,” he added, to a few cheers.

“What's that, then?” Gloin asked, staring at Bilbo from across the table. “Have you finally decided to make Thorin an honest Dwarf?”

The laughter at that remark was uproarious, and Bilbo felt his cheeks flushing more with every swift smack on the back from Dwalin and Bofur.

“Quiet down you lot,” he called, deciding to take them head on...he'd learned that meekness got him nowhere with Dwarves. They were as subtle as a sledgehammer, and he'd had to learn to be just as forceful with them in return. “Honestly, don't be ridiculous.”

“Well what, then?” Dori asked pointedly, and Bilbo became aware that all eyes were on him, every ear tuned in to what he had to say. 

“I'm heading back to the Shire,” he said cheerfully, only feeling half as cheerful as he tried to sound. “Gandalf will be leaving the morning after tomorrow, so I will accompany him on the road west.”

The table stilled, each Dwarf staring at him with an expression of shock, sadness and disbelief. 

“So soon?” Ori asked quietly, his big, expressive eyes doleful as they met Bilbo's. 

“Yes. I know it's a bit sooner than I'd been expecting, but I'd rather travel with Gandalf than anyone else. And he has responsibilities, although to whom he would not say, so we'll be leaving the day after tomorrow.”

“You'll be very greatly missed, Bilbo,” Bofur said, getting nods from all of them. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to kill the mood,” Bilbo said. “And as desperately as I'll miss all of you, I'm excited to be heading home. I miss the Shire, and with Fili awake and the mountain cleared, it's time for me to be getting home.”

“Home,” Dwalin said, a sorrowful tone in his voice. “Aye lad, we understand the need to go home, well enough. It's why we're here, after all.”

“Exactly,” Gloin added. “It is a celebration. While we may be missing our friend in the coming days, we are better for having known him and distance will not make our affection fade, will it lads?”

A bittersweet cheer rose up at Gloin's poignant declaration, and Bilbo's heart lightened. He laughed, lifted his mug and said loudly, “to good friends, whether near or far. May we never forget the bond we've forged, or the love in our hearts.”

“To good friends!” the others chanted, raising their mugs and toasting along with Bilbo, his health, his happiness, and a safe journey home. They spent the rest of the evening drinking and telling tales, even the ones that they'd all been present for, laughing heartily at every exaggeration, despite knowing that it wasn't technically true. Balin and Oin joined them before long, and Bilbo would always remember that night as one of the best and brightest memories he had of his Dwarves. 

 

* * *

 

When he got back to the tent, more than a little bit tipsy, despite having drank less than half of what the Dwarves had, he found Thorin already asleep, though he was twitching fitfully. He sighed, his mood dimming somewhat. He had hoped to find Thorin awake, planning to convince him that he would be perfectly amiable to Thorin bending him over the cot and rutting in him like a wild animal. 

The idea faded when he took in Thorin's stress lined face, tense and troubled even in sleep. He sighed, pulling off his jacket and slipping under the heavy fur that had replaced the thin blankets that they had been using before. Thorin was a furnace, as always, and Bilbo wasted no time snuggling in, wrapping as much of himself around Thorin as he could reach. 

He was asleep in moments.

 

* * *

 

He woke slowly in the dim morning light, noticing immediately that Thorin's limbs were wrapped around him now, his head tucked into Thorin's neck, pillowed on his shoulder. He sighed at the lovely warmth that surrounded him, reminded of those days between the Misty Mountains and Beorn's house, when he had slept in a rowdy pile of Durin, only this was better, as there was only Thorin, so he wasn't being crushed by the weight of Kili atop him. 

He snuggled closer, letting himself breathe in as much of Thorin as he could, feeling rather sappy at the thought. He was the one leaving, after all. His head was aching mildly, not too badly, considering all the ale he'd consumed, but badly enough to put a damper on his usual habit of waking Thorin with a blow job, or rubbing against him until he hardened or...well, any number of things that Thorin might do to him if he woke up before Bilbo. 

He felt the change in breathing that indicated that Thorin was waking up, blinking his eyes open and looking up to see Thorin smiling down at him, sweetly but a little sad as well. 

“Good morning,” he said, his voice rough and low from sleep and the excessive consumption of ale. 

“Good morning,” Thorin replied, leaning in to kiss Bilbo tenderly. They kissed languidly, neither of them pushing further, and Bilbo was put at ease by the comfortable intimacy they shared. Finally he pulled back, just taking a moment to look at Thorin like this, sleep mussed and vulnerable. It was a rare gift, this view of Thorin, not one that many have ever had before him. Perhaps Thorin would find someone else to share these moments with, when Bilbo was back in the Shire and more Dwarves had returned to Erebor. 

If his stomach twisted at the prospect, he told himself it was just the ale. 

“I'll miss this,” Thorin said quietly, his expression earnest, his eyes filled with emotion.

“So will I,” Bilbo admitted. “And many more things.”

“Yes,” Thorin said simply, meeting Bilbo's eyes with a level, open gaze. “I wish you would stay.”

Bilbo sighed, he'd been wondering if Thorin was going to ask him that very thing. 

“Thorin,” he began, but Thorin cut him off with a kiss, quite a bit more energetic than the last. 

“Don't,” Thorin said desperately, kissing him again. “Just...just let me...” He sighed, trailing off, pulling Bilbo closer and hiding his face in Bilbo's curls. 

“Thorin,” Bilbo said again, sadly, running a hand up his arm, cupping his bristly cheek, pulling Thorin down for another kiss. 

“I love you,” Thorin said when he broke the kiss, his eyes wide and moist, and Bilbo thought that he might just cry as well, if Thorin did. “I wish you would stay.” 

Bilbo's heart clenched in regret, even knowing that they would come to this hadn't made it any easier. If Balin was right and there was no changing Thorin's feelings for him, at least they could have this, at least they could enjoy the time that they had.

“I'm sorry,” Bilbo replied, as earnestly as he could, meeting Thorin's eyes and trying to show all the regret that welled up inside him. “I have to go home, Thorin.”

“I know. I've always known. But it doesn't change my heart, amralime. You will always have it, no matter what.”

Bilbo didn't know what to say, so he kissed Thorin instead, pulling him down and slipping his tongue into Thorin's mouth, pouring all his desire and affection into the kiss. He slid his hands down and under Thorin's tunic, pleased to find that he wasn't wearing anything below the waist, regretting the fact that he'd failed to remove his own trousers before getting into bed last night. 

He pulled Thorin's tunic up, eager to get at the skin underneath, and Thorin helped, sitting up in the cot to pull the offending garment off and throw it to the floor. He did the same for Bilbo, pulling his shirt out of his trousers and over his head in one swift movement, hands falling immediately to repeat the process on Bilbo's lower half. 

As soon as they were both naked Thorin was on top of him, pressing his entire length against Bilbo's body, his skin hot and silky under Bilbo's hands. They kissed with more urgency, Thorin frotting down into him, with Bilbo pushing right back as eagerly.

“Thorin, please,” he said, pulling away to catch his breath, only to have it stolen away by Thorin's tongue and lips on his neck, his teeth scrapping over Bilbo's skin before sucking harshly, no doubt leaving a mark that would accompany Bilbo halfway to the Shire. 

“Whatever you want,” Thorin replied, laving his way across Bilbo's neck and drawing another mark on the other side, Bilbo's skin claimed by Thorin's eager mouth. 

“I want you inside me,” Bilbo demanded, his blunt fingernails scraping up Thorin's back, expressing his desire as well as words could. 

“Oil,” Thorin said, sliding his mouth down Bilbo's chest and leaving more marks in his wake, and although this wasn't the first time that Thorin had claimed him in this way, Bilbo was grateful that most of the red bites would be hidden under his clothing. 

He reached up for the oil, grasping the vial carefully and passing it into Thorin's waiting hand. Then all thought left him as Thorin sucked his aching cock, bobbing on it with long pulls, pausing now and then to lave the tip with his wet tongue. 

Thorin wasted no time in preparing him, it may have been a while, but Bilbo's body was relaxed and receptive, taking two of Thorin's thick fingers before he experienced more than a mild discomfort. Thorin continued to suck avidly on his cock, and when he had worked in a third finger and crooked it, rubbing at that part of Bilbo that sent sparks shooting up his spine, Bilbo came with a hoarse shout, taken completely by surprise as his release rushed through him. 

Thorin continued until Bilbo tugged on his hair, finally letting go of Bilbo's cock, pulling his fingers out of his hole quickly, making use of more oil to slick himself liberally. His face was stern with resolve, and he lifted Bilbo's legs up, bending him double, bracing his hands on the bed with one of Bilbo's legs draped over each arm, knees resting in the crook of Thorin's elbows. 

He slid in with no hesitation, immediately setting a quick pace, keeping his thrusts shallow, avoiding the tender spot inside as if on purpose, which it probably was, if Bilbo's experience counted for anything. He kissed Bilbo again, open mouthed and filthy, as Bilbo dug his fingers into Thorn's back, hard, urging him on. 

Thorin continued his measured thrusting, lowering himself onto his elbows, pushing Bilbo's legs back further, biting and sucking even more marks onto Bilbo's already tender skin. Bilbo felt his cock begin to fill once more, Thorin's deliberate pace sending fresh blood surging, every nerve sharpening under the unrelenting onslaught. He was fully hard again before long, his arms wrapped around Thorin's neck, holding on for dear life. 

Just when he thought he couldn't take it any more, Thorin pushed back, sitting fully upright on his knees, drawing Bilbo's legs with him, until they lay against his chest, perpendicular to the bed, the new angle making Bilbo cry out as Thorin's cock began to brush his spot once more, occasionally, sporadically, just enough to further harden him, but not enough to bring him to the edge. 

Thorin's face had slackened, his eyes resolute as they watched Bilbo's face, no doubt cataloguing every twitch of muscle and expression, every sound that fell from Bilbo's lips. 

“Thorin, please,” Bilbo moaned again, reaching up with his hands, able only to clutch at Thorin's strong thighs, the rest of him much too far out of Bilbo's reach. He could gain no leverage, completely at the mercy of Thorin's desire, and apparently Thorin's desire that morning was to fuck him until he couldn't see straight. 

Thorin responded by pulling out altogether, without warning, leaving Bilbo's hole aching with the loss of his hard, thick cock, but he didn't feel the lack for long. Thorin pushed both of his legs to the side, reaching down for his hips and pulling them up, until Bilbo was kneeling, his chest pressed hard to the bed by the weight of Thorin's hand, his rear in the air, cheeks spread open as Thorin pushed one aside with a large palm.

He didn't hold back, entering Bilbo again immediately, thrusting hard and fast, and deep, oh, so deep that Bilbo imagined that he could taste Thorin in the back of his throat. Thorin's thrusts were faster now, less controlled, unerringly hitting Bilbo's sweet spot with every push, his cock spearing Bilbo's hole with every motion of his hips. 

Bilbo was moaning constantly, every thrust of Thorin's cock pushing a burst of air from him, his cock aching once more, bouncing unheeded between his belly and the bed. Bilbo knew that he wouldn't last long under Thorin's assault, and he didn't, coming wildly with a shout only moments later, fading into moans that reached a fevered pitch when Thorin's hand slid up off his back and grasped a handful of his hair, pulling his head back, even as the weight of his thrusts increased. 

It was a mere moment later when Thorin came inside him with a rush, calling Bilbo's name amidst broken Khuzdul, gasping for breath as his hips stuttered, slowing as his cock surged and pulsed inside Bilbo's slack hole. 

He fell forward, all his weight pressing Bilbo into the bed, restricting his movement and his breathing, but he welcomed Thorin's heavy frame, the weight a comfort. Bilbo imagined that he could feel Thorin's heart racing in his own chest, his gasping breaths pushing into Bilbo rhythmically, until at last they slowed and Thorin pushed himself off Bilbo with a groan, his cock slipping out, a dribble of Thorin's come in its wake. It was wet and sticky and any proper Hobbit would have been repulsed, but then again, no proper Hobbit would go to bed with a Dwarf, never mind welcome such rough and desperate lovemaking. 

But Bilbo loved it. It was certainly the best he'd ever had, the most thorough fucking that Bilbo could imagine, and he could imagine quite a lot. The thought fluttered through his mind that he would never find such a spectacular, forceful lover again, should he search the entirely to Middle Earth. 

He slipped back into slumber with a pleasant burn in his backside and a painful ache in his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I was certain that I would be finishing this part tomorrow, I had been awkwardly writing all day, you know like when you know where you want to go but it isn't flowing? And then, right when I was thinking about going to bed and picking up in the morning, it started flowing, and here I am. Sheesh. 
> 
> Enjoy. :)


End file.
